


Remember Me

by Torched22



Category: DCU, Smallville
Genre: Confessions, Death, M/M, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 12:31:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19295815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torched22/pseuds/Torched22
Summary: Lex gets a message from a ghost.





	Remember Me

It showed up on his doorstep, okay well, he didn't have a doorstep per se, but it showed up. An unassuming envelope the color of sand, so light that it felt like nothing was inside. Lex was wary of unknown packages, so he had his security team pour over anything before it arrived at his penthouse. Its presence meant that it had been scanned, scrutinized, and sanitized by UV light. 

 

So what if it was overkill.

 

Lex opened it as he strolled into his living room. In a rare move, he decided LexCorp could run itself today, so he wore silk pajama bottoms and no top. A glass of orange juice was waiting for him on the coffee table in front of the sofa. The newspaper that typically joined it sat unopened on the entry table. He didn't want to read the headlines - not today. 

 

With a thud he sat and pulled out a small case. On the case was an engraved note: "Message from Superman to Lex, delivered by Batman: ICOD. 

 

He didn't know what ICOD meant, but he was curious about the message, especially in light of the catastrophe that took place two days ago. 

 

He rubbed a thumb over the message, feeling the grooves of the letters as they caught on the ridges of his fingerprints. Swallowing, he considered whether or not he should watch it. 

 

When he heard the news two days ago, he sat motionless, stunned. An hour later, he demanded footage. He had watched the footage over and over until every millisecond was burned into his memory for eternity. Then he sat some more. There was no rush of relief. No spike of panic. Not a single tear traversed his cheek, not even when he went back to Smallville for the funeral. 

 

He watched Martha cry, her red hair losing its luster as age crept upon her. She shook and sobbed and something long buried in Lex's chest turned and clenched. But he held it there, captive, in stasis - his emotion. He watched them assemble - the real friends - not the strangers who flocked to the official ceremony in Metropolis. This crowd was made of heroes and friends and family. Lex most certainly did not belong there, so he watched from afar. A shadow in this unfamiliar town, a blight in the life of his arch nemesis. 

 

At night he lay awake, staring into the darkness, straining to hear nothing in particular. Sleep would not come to him, it eluded his grasp like a scorned lover. So he lay motionless and awaited the sun's piercing rays through the penthouse. 

 

Sitting, turning the chip over in his hands, he considered how hard it must have been for Batman to deliver this. He knew Bruce Wayne hated him to the core, and confirmed it at the funeral when the man's cold blue gaze ripped straight through him. The look screamed, "get the fuck out of here, you don't belong at this funeral. You don't belong anywhere. Go die."

 

It was so powerful and icy that Lex had to look away after a few moments, his eyes cast to the ground. Bruce was hurting. The world was hurting, weeping together, more broken than ever. 

 

Finally, he put the chip into his TV and sat back down. Strangling curiosity was never Luthor's forte. He had to know what the message was, even if seeing it had the capability of stripping him down to what was left of his soul.

 

Black turned to peach, a large hand receding as Superman came into view. 

 

There it was, that surge of unfamiliar emotion, rattling against it's cage in Lex's chest. He quieted the noise, pushed down the feelings, and trained his eyes on the screen. 

 

"Hey Lex," Superman spoke, addressing him as if they were buddies. "If you're watching this, it means I'm...well...dead," the hero swallowed. He was sitting now, perched on the edge of a sofa. "I'm not sure how you'll feel about me being gone...maybe relieved? I might be relieved too..." he rubbed the back of his neck out of nervousness. It was bizarre to see Superman acting so...human...vulnerable.

 

"You probably don't remember this. I know that you don't remember Smallville at all," he rubbed at his wrist next. "Something happened to your memories of that time and they're gone. But I have them still - all those memories." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, we met a woman named Cassandra. She could show a person's future to them by touching them. I don't know what she saw when she touched you, you would never tell me. But when she touched me, she and I saw me...all alone. Everyone I knew dead. Just me. And that's haunted me all these years Lex," the hero was struggling. "But if you're watching this, it  means I changed something, I rewrote what she saw and am no longer alive."

 

Lex leaned forward, his attention hanging on every single word. 

 

"I know that you know I'm Clark Kent," the words shocked Luthor. His stomach dropped like he was on a rollercoaster. 

"I know that you've known for about six years...and you've never brought it up. You never blew my identity, and I wanted to thank you for that. Some part of my life was normal because of that."

 

Lex's hands were so tightly woven together that they were white. He could feel his heartbeat accelerating out of control. 

 

"There's more you should know though," Kent continued. "I wish...I wish you could remember Smallville, Lex. I wish you could remember that you and I were once friends. That much you don't know. You don't remember teaching me calculus and philosophy, or taking me to the observatory..." Clark's gaze loosened, his eyes looking through Lex as he remembered the past. "We swam in your pool and raced through the countryside in your Porsche." He laughed, "The same make of car that you hit me with when we first met. You hit me in your Porsche and we went over the bridge. I pulled you out and breathed life back into you." 

 

Tears gathered at Lex's eyes as some quicksilver memory darted across his conciousness. He could almost grab it.

 

"You were my first kiss Lex," Clark admitted, his eyes going glossy as well. "I admired you so much. You stood in the loft of my barn and told me that we were the stuff of legends. You also told me that I was like a brother to you...but you weren't like a brother to me, Lex, you were more. The feelings I have for you aren't familial." A tear broke free and slipped down Superman's face. 

Clark put his face in both hands, breathing deeply before continuing. 

 

"When I found out you didn't remember Smallville, it crushed me. We grew apart at the end...in Smallville...then you didn't remember at all...then you hated Superman."

 

A pause, charged like lightning about to strike.

"I don't blame you for hating me," he whispered. "I failed you Lex...in so many ways. My secrets destroyed our friendship. I failed to save you from whatever took your memories. I failed by not telling you how in lo..."

 

Another pause. Hot tears now falling like rain on Lex's cheeks.

 

"I love you Lex...not like how I loved Lana or Lois...or anyone else. You and I are flames and gasoline...everything we do is on another level. We fight harder, we feel more, we were both born into great responsibility. And if I'm gone...and you're not...then it's up to you to help others. To use your money and influence and brilliance to change the world for the better."

 

Silence. 

 

"I'm sure you're rolling your eyes at me," Clark chuckled, swiping a hand over his face to get rid of the wayward tears. 

 

"I don't know why I'm crying exactly," the man on the screen admitted. "I'm not dead yet...Maybe it's the thought of never seeing you again. I know that you don't really like me...that you've spent half a lifetime pushing me away, not trusting me, hating me. But you also spent a lot of years...pulling me closer...telling me stories...instilling in me a desire to push myself and be the best version of myself. I know you may not think this means anything, but I'd like to share with you some things from Smallville. Just pictures and stuff..." he tried to grin but it was wrapped in sadness.

 

"I just want you to know that I still...I still love you Lex. I could never stop wanting you. I could never stop watching over you. I never hated you. I never even..." he hung his head and shook it. "I never even blamed you for hating me. I know that everything you've done has been for some bigger cause, some greater purpose. You may be unscrupulous at times, unconventional, pushing laws and boundaries...but I know it's because you want to make great change. You want to protect Earth. You just want to do it in different ways."

 

Superman zipped out of the picture and Lex panicked, standing. But the man returned, buttoning up a flannel shirt and putting on those stupid glasses. He walked towards the camera and stared through the lense, right into Lex's soul. "I do my best to remember Smallville fondly," he whispered this secret through time and space. "I wish I could share these things with you in person...I wish I could hug you again...touch...taste..." his cheeks flamed pink and he backed away a little, clearing his throat again. 

 

"Please know Lex that you always meant so much to me, even when we battled. My life without you would have been...empty. Kent tilted his head, his sad eyes red from crying, he looked broken and kissable. "Please take care of mom...and be nice to Batman and the other heroes. And...don't forget me?" his voice shattered and more tears fell. "All I ever wanted was to matter to you, to call you my friend, to hold you close. Goodbye Lex," the screen shifted as Lex heard a sob that wasn't his. 

 

Next thing he knew, the screen was filled with light again, this time with still images. A young Lex, his arm slung around teenage Clark's shoulders. Disbelief rushed into Lex as the implications of having been friends with young Superman rocked his worldview. Goosebumps erupted down his flesh and every nerve stood on end. He felt like a passenger in his own life...like he had been robbed. The screen changed.

 

Clark in a cherry red football jersey, helmet in one hand, the other arm pulling Lex close for the photo. Lex leaning against one of his fancy cars, hands in his pockets, making a face like - why are you taking this photo? Lex in another candid shot, he's playing pool in the mansion. His body bent over the felt, eyes locked onto the ball, face graced by the purples and reds of the stained glass window. Clark with his parents, a photo Lex must've taken. A shot of tickets from concerts and movies...receipts from the Talon... The photos kept coming and it made Lex feel dizzy, his knees turning to jelly as he fell back onto the couch gracelessly.

 

A shot of Clark, smile ten miles wide, with Lex on his back, looking over his shoulder. Then a picture of a party Lex didn't remember, his and Clark's frames the focus, his face beaming with amusement and warmth. Next, a shot of Clark and Lex...Clark dressed up in a suit, and Lex caught off-guard, looking over at the young Superman with lust and love in his eyes. Then a photo where Clark was off guard, football team rallying around him as his eyes focused on a nearly out-of-shot Lex talking to someone else. Followed by a goofy photo - the two of them with white on their upper lips - near bowls of coffee in front of them with a mountain of whipped cream on each. 

 

It wasn't until the photos stopped that Lex realized he was shaking and sobbing, loud, ugly sobs, as he realized what had been ripped away from him. How much time he had wasted with Superman...with Clark...that the young man in those photos was gone forever. Lex felt...for the first time since Superman's death. And just as he feared, letting himself feel would surely kill him. Now that he felt, he couldn't stop feeling. He was under the water, in the river, inside his Porsche, but this time, no one was coming to save him. 

The room around him grew smaller, his hands tingled, his legs felt like noodles, his head spun and he couldn't breathe. A panic attack, violent and consuming, swallowed him up. 

He wanted to scream and sob and laugh and burn the entire world down around him. How could he not know? Superman loved him - Clark Kent loved him. He had always been attracted to Clark but he just used it to further fuel his hatred. He detested vulnerability...punished himself for his perverse thoughts whenever they plauged him. But they weren't perverse...they weren't even one-sided...Clark wanted him too.

Had they ever kissed? In Smallville? Did he die thinking that Lex would be smiling at his funeral? 

He felt his breakfast rising in his throat. 

His suspicions were right...Clark was Superman. He had felt so venerated for finally seeing that a handful of years ago but what did that matter now? Nothing. He practically knew Doomsday was coming and he didn't even lift a finger to stop it...

He let Superman die.

He let Clark die.

Guilt and fury came out of him in the form of a scream. 

Mercy rushed in to find Lex on the floor...screaming, crying, cursing. He'd give anything to remember Smallville. He'd give anything to see Clark again. 

"I didn't know," he sobbed into Mercy's shoulder, her arms rocking him back and forth. "I loved him back," he said hoarsely. "I wanna tell him. I need to tell him." 

She shushed him, making soothing noises as she rocked him back and forth.

He wouldn't get off the floor for the rest of the day.


End file.
